


Journey's End

by LostCybertronian



Category: G1 - Fandom, Transformers
Genre: #also a teensy bit of fluff if you squint, #squint really hard guys, M/M, the angst, the angst man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6731638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCybertronian/pseuds/LostCybertronian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say journeys end with lovers meeting..<br/>but sometimes it's for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journey's End

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and posted it on fanfiction.net. Recently edited it again and decided to put it up here. Enjoy.

Creeping through the shadows, silent as the night itself, an Autobot saboteur tracked his victim.

Said victim happened to be a police cruiser, meandering down the empty road, "To punish and enslave" adorning it's black and white finish.

Jazz remembered a time when it said "To serve and protect."

Memories threatened to impede his progress , but the saboteur kept them at bay with an iron grip.

There was no time for that now.

He tracked the cruiser to an abandoned warehouse, careful to stay out of sight and out of earshot, cloaked in shadows and nearly invisible.

Then he followed.

"Ah suspect yeh know why ah'm here." Jazz's visor glinted blue in the darkness of the warehouse as he stepped into the shafts of moonlight that filtered through the grimy, cracked windows.

Barricade whipped around, his optics a blaring crimson,

Jazz's vents hitched as he caught sight of them.

He remembered a time when they were blue.

"Did Prime finally give the order to kill me?" Barricade mocked, optics flashing, "Did the mighty Optimus Prime finally send his precious soldier to hunt me down and slay little 'ole me?"

"Ah came ah mah own accord." Jazz stepped forward, slipping a blade from his subspace as he did so.

Barricade wandered closer, grinning menacingly and reaching forward to caress Jazz's faceplates roughly with a single clawed thumb.

Jazz slapped him away, "Don't yeh touch meh! Only Prowl can touch meh."

"But I am Prowl." Barricade cooed, and for a single instant, Jazz believed him.

Prowl, the mech who was his mate.

Prowl, the mech he had loved and who had loved him.

And in a split second, that instant was over, and Prowl warped into the monster that stood before him once again.

Barricade, who used to be Prowl.

Barricade, whom he'd come to kill.

He lunged forward, swiping the dagger for a rapid would-be fatal cut across the jugular cabling.

Barricade evaded it easily and backhanded Jazz, sending the smaller mech spinning, blade flying from his servo.

"You really should've come prepared." Barricade scolded him, like a creator would their sparkling. He sauntered forward, pulling his gun from its holster, "A mere blade? You must be losing your touch."

With a growl, Jazz dove into a roll and snatched the knife, hopping back up to his pedes.

"Ah'm still as feisty as ever, Prowler." The nickname he used to call Prowl slipped out before he could stop it.

Barricade froze, his doorwings stiffening. "Do not call me that." He said evenly, a blank, almost serene expression crossing his faceplates, but the rage in his optics was clear as day.

Jazz slid gracefully into a battle crouch, tilting his helm to one side, beckoning the Decepticon closer with a challenging grin.

Barricade wasted no time. With a shout, the black and white mech transformed, tires squealing against the cracked concrete as he raced across the almost minuscule distance towards Jazz.

At the last possible moment, the Autobot saboteur sprung and collided with Barricade violently.

Barricade grunted and transformed- metal screeching against metal- fists flailing.

The two began a deadly dance, the advantage swinging between them more times then could be counted.

Prowl may have been Barricade, but he had in no way lost any of his skills as a soldier and brilliant tactician. He matched Jazz in combat, remembering his style even after many years of being apart.

Jazz, however, had learned a few things since then.

He grabbed hold of the gun, twisting and kicking Barricade sharply underneath the chinguard. The force of the blow knocked the Decepticon away from him, leaving Jazz with the gun. He immediately tossed it into the dark reaches of the warehouse.

Barricade roared with fury, leaping forward. Time slowed to a crawl. Jazz flipped the blade so that the point faced skywards; then, as if in slow motion, thrust it up and under, into the chink Barricade's chest armor met his abdominal.

Barricade cried out sharply, slumping heavily onto Jazz as energon gushed heavily from the wound, staining the blade and Jazz both a bright, glowing blue.

Jazz withdrew it, (EDIT STARTS HERE) t aside viciously. He gripped Barricade tightly and lowered the Decepticon carefully to the ground.

Barricade was venting heavily, clutching at his wound. Tears gathered in his optics and spilled over onto his faceplates.

Who ever thought that Barricade, the traitor, had a paralyzing fear of dying?

Jazz cradled Barricade's helm gently in his servos, kneeling beside him and touching their helms together.

Tears dripped from underneath his visor and spattered onto Barricade's nasal ridge.

"Ah-ah'm sorry, Prowler." He shuttered his optics. After a few moments he felt a shaky servo cover his own.

"J...Jazz..."

"Barricade." Jazz corrected himself quietly, trying and failing to meet Barricade's optics.

The Decepticon had a small smile on his faceplates. He shook his helm faintly, optics dimming, "It's Prowl."

Prowl took a shaky vent, his systems struggling and rattling as they fought to keep him online. His fingers came up to shakily trace Jazz's faceplates ever so gently with his thumb.

The touch held none of Barricade's malice. Instead, it felt like.. Like Prowl's touch. The way he used to touch Jazz, back- way back- before he left.

"I... I forgive you." He whispered, optics dimming further, barely online now.

Jazz's vents hitched, and before the dying mech in his arms could say anything else he brought their lips together for one last kiss.

He didn't break away even when Prowl's servos slackened and fell away, the Datsun growing too weak to even hold them up anymore.

He only pulled away when Prowl's shaky vents stopped completely.

He held him for a long time after that.


End file.
